Ortiz came outside while they were speaking.
She told Carol that investigators had located Andrew that morning.
He was safe and had agreed to speak with counsel present.
Carol sat down heavily.
“He isn’t under arrest?”
“He is being interviewed,” Ortiz said.
“His status will depend on what he did and what he tells us.”
“Can I see him?”
“Not while we’re still sorting out the movements of the shipments.”
Carol nodded without looking up.
Daniel felt no urge to comfort her.
The woman had endangered Isabel and anyone else who might have stepped into his yard.
Yet her fear for Andrew helped explain why Price had chosen her.
Carol was obsessed with protecting her own family, even when her actions threatened other people’s families.
Inside the house, investigators found three stacks of shipping blankets marked with an airport freight company logo.
The mark connected the garage to Caroline Price’s workplace.
They also found several instrument stands and a row of padded cases that had been stripped of exterior labels.
An evidence technician photographed each item before lifting it from its place.
None of the recovered objects contained the missing viola.
Daniel was permitted to examine the empty garage only after the team finished.
He stood where the cases had been stacked and imagined the owners searching bedrooms, classrooms, and practice halls for objects that might never return.
A house could look ordinary from the street while holding an entire neighborhood’s missing possessions.
He went home and called his sister.
“I need a favor,” he said.
Nora listened as he asked her to help compile public notices from families whose instruments had vanished.
“You’re not going looking for the thief yourself, are you?” she asked.
“No.”
“Daniel.”
“I want the families to know there may be a way to identify what was taken.”
Nora considered the request.
“Then I’ll call the school music coordinator.”
She paused.
“And you will stay out of any warehouse, right?”
Daniel looked across the street at the patrol car.
“That is the plan.”
CHAPTER SEVEN — THE CASE THAT CAME BACK WRONG
Lily Barnes arrived at the community arts center carrying a borrowed viola with two pieces of tape on its worn case.
Her teacher, Ms. Freeman, introduced her to Daniel and Mateo in an empty rehearsal room.
Lily had expected a police interview, not a meeting with a homeowner whose pool had been sabotaged.
She looked suspiciously at the adults until Mateo showed her the old photograph.
Her face changed at once.
“That’s mine,” she said.
“It was mine before it went missing.”
Mateo asked her to describe the instrument without looking at the photograph.
Lily pointed to a small dent below the right sound hole and a pale line beneath the varnish near the upper edge.
Both marks were visible in workshop images saved before the theft.
“How long have you been playing on the borrowed viola?” Daniel asked.
“Six weeks.”
“Does it feel different?”
Lily laughed without humor.
“It feels like trying to write with somebody else’s hand.”
Ms. Freeman explained that Lily could still perform, but the different neck width made difficult passages unreliable.
Lily had declined a solo audition because she feared failing in front of the panel.
“I don’t want them to give me a free pass,
” she said.
“I just want the instrument I worked for.”
Mateo promised he would continue looking, but he did not promise a reunion he could not guarantee.
The meeting grew tense when another family entered the rehearsal room.
Mr. and Mrs. Hsu had lost a pair of antique clarinets belonging to their son, a professional musician touring overseas.
They had learned that investigators might recover the instruments and wanted an immediate inspection.
Mrs. Hsu spread photographs across the piano bench.
One showed an unusual silver key added during a repair in Prague.
Another showed the case’s worn red lining.
She insisted that the theft could not have been random because only the maintenance company knew they were overseas.
Mr. Hsu asked whether they could sue every worker who had visited the property.
Isabel, who had come to help identify service dates, visibly stiffened.
“Most of us didn’t know anything,” she said.
“Then why didn’t you notice equipment leaving your vans?” Mr. Hsu demanded.
“Because the instruments were hidden among legitimate shipments.”
“That isn’t good enough.”
Daniel stepped between them before the argument escalated.
“You deserve answers,” he told the couple.
“But Isabel is the reason investigators have a chance of finding anything.”
Mrs. Hsu looked at Isabel for a long moment.
“Did you touch our son’s instruments?” she asked.
“No,” Isabel replied.
“I would tell you if I had.”
The woman’s shoulders sank.
“Then I am sorry for asking as though you stole them.”
Isabel nodded, but the apology did not make the strain disappear.
Every victim wanted certainty, and investigators could offer very little of it.
That afternoon, Ortiz arranged a supervised property-identification session at a police storage facility.
Only a small number of recovered cases were ready for examination.
Lily, the Hsus, and three other families arrived with photographs, receipts, and repair descriptions.
The first case opened to reveal a flute, but the nameplate had been removed.
The owner recognized a tiny musical note scratched inside the clasp by her daughter.
The second case contained an inexpensive practice violin that nobody claimed.
The third held a clarinet with a replacement silver key.
Mrs. Hsu leaned forward, then abruptly stepped back.
“That isn’t ours,” she said.
The repair looked similar, but the angle of the key was wrong.
Mr. Hsu asked whether a thief could have altered it.
Mateo examined the instrument without touching it and shook his head.
“The entire upper joint was made by a different workshop.”
The discovery upset everyone.
The cases were being mixed deliberately, and some instruments had been replaced with imitations.
A case returned to its owner might contain an object that looked familiar without being the original.
Ortiz later showed Daniel two photographs taken during the overnight surveillance outside Carol’s house.
One showed Gideon and Carol carrying boards into the yard.
The other showed Gideon handing a small card to Raymond Pike before driving away.
At first, Daniel thought the card was a parking ticket.
When Ortiz enlarged the image, he recognized a freight depot’s orange access credential.
“That looks like an airport loading pass,” he said.
Ortiz nodded.
“Caroline Price manages a third-party freight desk there.”
“Can she move instruments without customs inspections?”
“She cannot legally avoid them, but she may be falsifying descriptions before packages are presented.”
Daniel studied the image.
The important discovery was not the photograph of the trap itself.
It was the small, ordinary credential passed between two men who believed no one was paying attention.
The investigators used that lead to obtain access records from the freight depot.
They did not rely on the photograph to prove a crime.
It merely showed them which records to request.
CHAPTER EIGHT — THE NIGHT SHIFT
Caroline Price worked beneath fluorescent lights at a private freight terminal beyond the airport’s main cargo complex.
Unlike her brother, she rarely spoke loudly and never appeared hurried.
She supervised the transfer of boxed equipment between delivery trucks and air-cargo contractors.
Her station processed restaurant machinery, trade-show displays, and occasional musical instruments traveling to performances abroad.
A single cello or violin case therefore attracted little attention.
On the day investigators began reviewing her records, Caroline scheduled a late cargo movement described as exhibition furniture.
Three pallets would leave the depot by truck at nine that night.
The destination was a temporary warehouse outside the city rather than an airport loading bay.
Ortiz learned of the change from depot records obtained through the investigation.
“They’re moving things away from the terminal,” Bell said.
“Which suggests they know we are looking there,” Ortiz answered.
“Or they are preparing a legitimate transfer,” Bell offered.
“We cannot assume which until we verify the cargo.”
Investigators obtained authorization to inspect the shipment and coordinate with the depot’s lawful operators.
Daniel was not invited to attend.
He found out about the move only when Isabel called him after speaking with Ortiz.
“They think the instruments might be on the trucks tonight,
” she said.
“Do they want us to identify them?”
“Not at the depot.”
“Then we wait.”
Isabel was silent for a moment.
“Waiting is becoming difficult.”
Daniel understood.
In two days, his backyard had become a crime scene, and dozens of musicians had learned that their most personal possessions might be locked inside shipping crates.
Yet the only sensible action was to let investigators work.
He asked Isabel whether she had someone with her.
“Mateo is making soup,” she said.
“He keeps chopping the vegetables too small because he’s distracted.”
Daniel almost laughed.
“That sounds better than sitting alone.”
“It is.
”
She paused.
“Do you think Carol really believed that trap would only scare me?”
Daniel considered what he had seen on her porch.
“I think she wanted to believe whatever would let her keep helping her son.”
“That’s not much comfort.”
“I wasn’t offering comfort.”
“Good,” Isabel said.
“I’m tired of people inventing excuses for her.”
